My shoulders are sore and my eyeballs are crossing
Words dance on the page, with their letters embossing
Themselves on my vision; they’re making no sense now,
I can’t see the point of the past perfect tense now.
Apostrophes, colons and odd prepositions
All vie for attention and seek new positions
I’ve wrestled with adverbs and fought with conjunctions
While adjectives seek to determine their functions.
I’m reading back over the bits I just read,
I just want to finish this edit instead.
There’s no chance, I tell you;
My brain has gone dead.
I’ve had it tonight
And I’m going to bed.